Bad Things
by LumosPumpkin13
Summary: This is how it all started. Who knows where it will end. MJ wasn't happy about having to reveal her secret, but she had made a promise to help. And she knew after meeting him she'd have to try. No matter what.
1. Chapter 1

"I don't see why we can't just meet up with this hunter at the motel later like Bobby said to and get the details from them." Sam muttered sourly. He tugged at his tie and shifted uncomfortably in the stiff suit.

"I want my information first hand. How do we know if we can trust this person, Sam? Bobby doesn't even know them personally, they're a friend of some librarian he met like once." Dean pulled into the parking lot of the medical examiner's office. "If we're going on a hunt with a stranger I want to be as prepared as humanly possible." He cut the engine and looked at Sam pointedly.

"Alright, fine." Sam sighed deeply.

They went inside and walked up to the front desk, pulling out their forged FBI credentials.

"Agents Frehley and Johnson, we're here to see the Stevenson body." Dean put on an air of polite boredom, that usually raised the fewest eyebrows. The security guard behind the desk spat his coffee though.

"Jesus! First the CIA, now the FBI? What was this guy mixed up in?" The man's voice nearly cracked like a teenager's. Dean found himself speechless and fighting to keep shock from his face.

"We're not at liberty to discuss that sir." Sam came to the rescue. "Where is the body?"

The guard pointed to a door to the left of the desk. "Through there. It's the only one we've got at the moment." He still seemed a bit dazed.

Sam and Dean went in to look at the body and found a woman already examining it. She wore an official looking light grey pencil skirt and blazer set. Her honey blonde hair was in a high bun that gave her face a severe look. She glanced up at the sound of the door and took their appearance in. Dean cleared his throat and introduced himself and Sam as he had before.

"So what interest does the FBI have in Mr. Stevenson? Our field office didn't receive an inter-agency request." The woman crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows as she spoke. She managed to make both men feel like schoolchildren who'd done something wrong. Dean started to stammer out a response when she snorted and broke into an wicked grin. "I'm just screwing with you." She chuckled. "You're the Winchesters, right? We were supposed to meet later at the Super 8?" The softer expression took years off her appearance.

"How did you..?" Dean pondered.

"How did I know you weren't really FBI? Please. That haircut is a dead giveaway." She gestured at Sam. "They've got some pretty strict guidelines about length." Sam reached up self-consciously to touch his hair. Dean turned and raised his eyebrows at him, giving a ' _how could_ _ **you**_ _not know that_ ' look.

"So... what do we got?" Dean asked, turning back to the body.

"Vamp nest." The other hunter answered, turning the victim's head to expose multiple bite marks on his neck. "I've narrowed the location of the nest down to a three block radius over by the warehouse district. All the victims were last seen at or around a club there. Name's MJ Johnson by the way."

"Sounds like you've already got this whole thing figured out." Dean tried to hide how impressed he was with a sarcastic tone.

"Yeah? Of course I do." MJ looked at him and a raised an eyebrow. "The only reason I'm letting you two tag along is because my best friend owes Bobby Singer a favor and she thinks I might be able to help you with your hell problem. And I'm not ditching mid-job to see if I can."

"Yeah about that..." Sam interjected uncomfortably, "How is it exactly that you might be able to help?"

MJ lost the smile and looked at both of them. She swallowed and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I've been." She said without humor. "And I've dealt with a lot of demons since then, so if there's anyone who can figure out who holds Dean's contract it's probably me."

"What do you mean who holds my contract? Wouldn't it just be the red eyed skank I made the deal with?" Dean was a little blindsided by the information that this... girl had been to hell and back. Literally.

MJ stared at Dean. "Do you have no inkling of what you **did** when you sold your soul? Crossroads demons are just sales reps, they don't actually have the power to hold contracts. Whatever you sold it for I hope it was worth it." She shook her head, making a face like she wasn't sure if she still wanted to help.

"It was worth it." Dean spat out. "I may not have known every nuance of how demons work but it was **damn** worth it! I hope whatever _you_ sold _yours_ for was."

MJ covered the body up and pushed the slab back into its cubby. "I didn't sell my soul." She said it quietly, in a controlled voice. There was an undercurrent to the way she said it.

"How'd you end up in hell then?" Dean asked. He sensed that something was off here, and he wasn't sure if he should take Sam and get the hell away or not. Something about her tugged at his protective instincts.

"I pissed off the wrong people." MJ said, abruptly closing the subject with her tone.

* * *

MJ was intent on the hunt, and only vaguely aware of the Winchester brothers by her side. The three of them watched the exits of the club from a nearby rooftop. A giggling couple walked out a side door, the beat of the music inside thumping louder until the door swung shut behind them.

"How about those two?" Sam questioned. It was weird hanging out for hours, watching from on high like a predator.

"It's not them." MJ sounded supremely confident. It was starting to drive Dean up a wall.

"How could you possibly know that?" He asked in an irritable growl.

"They come almost every night to sell drugs in there. I told you, I've been watching this place for weeks." MJ snapped, a little offended. Just then she shifted foreword. Her hair, now in a braid fell over her shoulder. "There. It's her." She was heading down the fire escape in nearly the same moment as she spoke. Dean scrambled after her, head spinning at the speed she perused a woman dressed in a skimpy dress leading a clearly inebriated man down an alley. Sam was close behind.

They caught up to MJ when she paused behind the corner of a building. She held up a hand, indicating they should stop. Then she pointed up, to a man standing on a balcony. He was watching the woman intently.

"How the hell did you know it was her?" Dean hissed.

"Did you not see the blood on his shirt collar?" MJ shot back under her breath. Dean shook his head. She rolled her eyes and then went back to watching. The man disappeared from the balcony and moments later reappeared at a door on ground level. The woman pushed her follower forward, and he stumbled into the steps leading to the door. The three disappeared inside.

"That's the nest." MJ eased her machete out of its sheath as she spoke.

"You're going in now?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Oh what? Are you scared?" MJ snorted. Both brothers looked at her, wide eyed. "Fine, stay here losers." And with that she crept swiftly towards the building.

"MJ-" Dean hissed, but she was already too far away. He turned to Sam, who was watching MJ stalk around the far corner of the building. "Alright come on."

They turned the corner just in time to see a head fall to the ground and roll a few feet. MJ caught the body and eased it down quietly. She acknowledged them wordlessly before wiping the blade clean on the vamp's shirt and re-sheathing it.

"So what's the plan?" Sam asked in a whisper.

" _I'm_ going in through the upstairs, you guys do whatever you want, just be quiet about it." MJ answered in a low voice. She took her coat off and hung it on some crates stacked against the wall. Sam was about to ask how she planned on going in through the second floor when there weren't any external stairs on this side of the building, when she started scaling a drainpipe. He shot a look at Dean.

"She doesn't play well with others does she?" Sam muttered.

"Nope." Dean grunted. They watched for another moment before Dean shook his head and looked for a way in on the ground floor. "Let's keep her from getting herself killed."

MJ slid a window open and swung into the building. She could hear raucous laughter floating up from the downstairs. As she crossed the room she stepped on a creaky floorboard. The laughter stopped. There was a brief, muffled conversation and then steps coming her direction. She slid over to the doorway and waited. Moments later a man came through, stepping towards the middle of the room. MJ swung the machete full force, catching him in the back of the neck. He toppled noisily to the floor. This resulted in some yelling from the first floor. With the element of surprise gone, MJ rocketed past the crumpled form and headed down the stairs. She'd just reached the bottom when two vamps came running.

Sam and Dean heard distressed shouting from inside and decided to just go through the front door. Dean kicked it in and saw MJ dodging a blow from one of the vamps, spinning to catch another one in the back of the leg with a bloody machete. Before he could go to help there were more on him and Sam. The fight didn't last long, and when he paused to catch his breath and glance around it looked like the end of a bad slasher flick. There were headless bodies strewn about the dingy room. The drunk man from before was cowering in the corner.

"Well, that was fun." MJ panted cheerfully, wiping blood from her chin. She grinned lopsidedly and cleaned her machete. "You two weren't half bad." There wasn't enough surprise in her voice for it to actually be insulting, but Dean didn't let it slide.

"You need to learn some teamwork! You could've gotten yourself killed." He fumed.

"I've done more with less help, I can handle myself Winchester." She seemed to be in too good of a mood to be affected by his grumpiness. She looked at him appraisingly. "So can you apparently. There may be hope for you yet."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean rounded on her.

"If we can figure out who holds your contract do you think it's going to be all puppies and rainbows? No. It's gonna be a fight that ends bloody. From what I saw here you two might actually stand a chance." MJ elaborated calmly. "It's a compliment, take the win." She smirked. MJ turned towards the still terrified man. "Let's get this guy out of here." She walked slowly over to where he crouched.

"They- they were going to kill me!" The man squeaked when she approached. "Were they even human?"

"Let's just get you home buddy." MJ said kindly. "This'll all just be a bad dream by next week." He looked up at her and nodded. She offered a hand and he took it, standing. He swayed and MJ wedged a shoulder under his arm, steadying him.

MJ walked the man back to the club and stuck him in a taxi. Dean had gone around the back of the building to get her coat, figuring she'd want it back.

"And they say chivalry is dead." MJ quipped. She looked back at the taxi as it pulled away. She bit her lip and her brow furrowed. "Look... I really want to help you, but I've got another case lined up. I'd put it off but..."

"What kind of case?" Dean watched MJ's face shift to disbelief. "What? You can't multitask?" Then he cracked a wide grin.


	2. Chapter 2

The three hunters settled into a booth at the back of the bar. They'd spent the day driving to the city MJ had found a case in and had met up in the parking lot. There was little risk of being heard over the other conversations and clatter of pool balls. A waitress wove her way over to them.

"Just drinks tonight? Or are ya'll going to brave the menu?" She smiled warmly, pulling out a pad to take orders.

"Beer and a burger. Extra onions." Dean returned the smile.

"I'll do the same, no extra onions though." Sam said, half shrugging.

The waitress jotted down the orders and turned to MJ. "And you?"

"I'll have a whiskey. Neat." MJ leaned back. "And if the fried mozzarella is any good I'll take an order of that."

The waitress nodded and went to go put that in. When she was out of earshot MJ pursed her lips and took out a folder, dropping it unceremoniously on the table.

"This is everything I've got. Looks like a cursed object. The deaths have been all over town and all the victims were found in locked rooms. They're calling them heart attacks but almost none of them have any of the usual risk factors." She crossed her arms. "The biggest problem is the rate people are dying at. The last two were this week alone. Before that..." She shook her head. "It looks like there have been over 20 in the past few decades." Sam had picked up the folder and was looking through it.

"That's why you said you couldn't put this off." Dean understood the urgency. "People in this city are dropping like flies. Kinda makes you wish there were more hunters around." He smirked at her. MJ's eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to respond.

"This is quite the file. You ran background checks on all these guys?" Sam interrupted, he was studying one of the pages. MJ turned to him reluctantly.

"Yeah I was trying to find a connection. So far I've got zip. I'm really hoping there's something the background check wouldn't pick up that friends and family would know to connect all of them." MJ's voice was saturated with frustration, she propped her elbows on the table and gestured to the file. "Whatever's going on its picking up the pace." She blew air out through her nose and gritted her teeth.

"There's no coroner's report for the more recent victims." Sam finished flipping through and looked over to MJ. She looked like she was ready to punch someone out. "Hey are you ok?"

"I hate it when innocent people die." Her expression softened somewhat, looking from one Winchester to the other. "Sorry, I know I can be a little intense. And about the coroner's report, I'm no hacker. They've got a halfway decent firewall on their server. I was going to go to the morgue first thing." She shrugged and leaned back, relaxing into her seat. "Besides. We all know that the official reports are inaccurate half the time. If something seems impossible they make up a new story to give to the boss."

"Very true."Dean sighed. Then he looked up, over Sam's head. "Sam put that away, the food's coming."

* * *

"To be honest with you agents, this was a weird one." The medical examiner led MJ and Dean to the body of the latest victim. He had died two days ago. Sam was out talking to the families. "It's just like the last few. Found alone in a room locked from the inside, spooky stuff. The interesting part is **how** they died. I mean...their hearts were... frozen. When I opened this guy up it was still stiff, there were even a few crystals in the blood. I don't know how the hell I'm going to explain that one in the write up."

MJ frowned and cocked her head to the side. "Frozen. Actually frozen? And none of the other organs were affected?" Her voice had a quality that made Dean feel like he was in the principal's office. He thought back to their first meeting and realized that must just be her agent voice. They may be FBI today but she sounded just like the CIA agent she'd been posing as then.

"No ma'am. Just the heart." The M.E. turned to look at the both of them. "I'm sorry but if you'll excuse me, I've got a lot of work to do." He nodded at them and then left.

"So something that can freeze a grown man's heart solid and move from one house to another. Your cursed object theory looks about right." Dean looked MJ up and down. She was still frowning, he could see wheels turning in her head. "What?"

"I don't know." MJ said ponderously. "Something isn't adding up. But I can't figure out what it is." She chewed her lip as she studied the body and some photos of the heart. He was starting to wonder if she did that any time she got lost in thought. Just then his phone rang. It was Sam.

"Hey, so I just finished with the third victim's family. There's nothing out of the ordinary according to them." Sam's voice crackled through the cell connection. MJ looked up questioningly. Dean shook his head. She scowled. "I'm thinking we head over to the last victim's apartment and see if there's anything there. Any luck on your end?"

"Yeah, we'll meet you there and fill you in then. Bye." Dean hung up. "Sam says he's headed to this guy's place now." Dean nodded at the man on the slab as he spoke.

"Well I think we've learned everything we can here." MJ sighed, re-covering the corpse. "There are no marks on the body and the heart looks normal other than having been frozen."

They walked side by side out to MJ's car. Dean made a face at it. The thing kind of unnerved him. Big, black, boxy, and screaming fed for the whole world to see. MJ took in Dean's expression.

"Yeah I know. I don't love it either, but it helps keep up the ruse. And it's got a lot of storage space." MJ shrugged as she spoke, climbing into the driver's seat. Dean sat stiffly next to her.

"You're paranoid as hell. You know that right?" Dean stared at MJ as she pulled out of the parking lot. She'd insisted that Sam not pose as an FBI agent with them today, citing all the regulations he would be violating with his appearance. She'd also insisted on taking her car, leaving Dean to ride shotgun if he wanted to see the body himself.

"Is it really paranoia if the world is out to get you after all?" MJ tossed back lightly. "So what did Sam have to say?" Her eyes were on the road, she drove too fast, weaving between other vehicles.

"He said they all checked out, nothing out of the ordinary. And yes, it's still paranoia." Dean answered, casting his gaze around the SUV's interior to try and distract himself from the reckless driving. It was meticulously organized, and there was a bedroll wedged behind the driver's seat. There were sigils painted everywhere, the color of them just barely standing out from the background. What the hell was she trying to hide from?

"Then sure, I'm paranoid." MJ allowed, breaking into Dean's thoughts. "It's kept me alive more or less." Dean watched as her jaw tightened with the last few words. There were faint shadows under her eyes, like she hadn't had a good night's sleep in even longer than Dean had. He wanted to ask how she'd wound up dead, and then back, but thought maybe right now wasn't the time. MJ was so focused on the case at hand. He decided to bring it up the first opportunity he saw. It wasn't prying if that's why they'd met right? MJ pulled up to the curb in front of an apartment building with a screech. "Looks like we beat Sam here."

"Only because you drive like a lunatic." Dean grumbled. He gladly slid out of the vehicle, feeling solid ground once more. Her apparent desire to rewrite the rules of the road had felt more like flying than driving and Dean's knees felt a little like jelly.

"I got us here didn't I?" MJ said dryly. She hopped out and swung the door shut with a little more force than was strictly necessary. "We gonna wait around for someone else to drop, or go inside and get to work?" She added impatiently. Dean clenched his jaw against the remark that tried to bubble up to the surface. Picking a fight wouldn't be helpful.

They went up to the victim's apartment, flashing badges at the front desk. They'd been snooping for a few minutes when Sam arrived. He was surprised that he hadn't arrived first. He went into the kitchen, where Dean was looking through the cupboards for clues.

"You guys sure got to work fast." Sam said in a cautious tone, Dean looked cranky.

"Yeah. She didn't want to wait." Dean grunted, jutting his chin in MJ's general direction. "So far I don't see anything that could be a cursed object." Dean closed the cupboard and turned so he could lean against the counter.

"So what did the coroner have to say?" Sam asked. He picked up a pile of papers from the kitchen table and started looking through them absently.

"All of the victim's hearts were frozen solid. No marks on the bodies and no other part of them were affected." MJ answered, stepping into the room. "There's nothing in the bedroom." Sam turned, looking up from the papers.

"Frozen hearts? That's a new one." He rolled his head to the side, considering it. "And it's not witchcraft?"

"No hex bags. And the timeline doesn't fit. This has been happening on and off for the past thirty years." MJ leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms. "Besides, when have you ever seen a witch kill in exactly the same way **that** many times?" MJ asked dubiously.

"Never." Sam sighed, defeated. Then his brow furrowed and he crossed to the fridge. "Check this out." He reached out and pulled a pamphlet out from under a magnet. "It's from an exhibit over at the town rec center." He held it up for MJ and Dean to see.

"Hey isn't that where vic number two worked?" Dean piped up, pushing off from the counter.

"Yeah. And the first one went to a grief support group in the same building." Sam spoke without looking at either of his companions, he was scanning the pamphlet for information. "It says here that they're 'keeping local history alive and well'. Looks like there are a lot of antiques on display."

"Sounds like as good a place as any to look next." MJ uncrossed her arms and headed out of the kitchen, towards the door to the apartment. "You guys coming or what?" She called.

* * *

"Well that was a bust." Dean snapped. They had all gone to the rec center and searched it top to bottom. All of the antiques on display had been behind glass, no chance of the victims touching a cursed object there. Sam had run into a friend of one of the victims and talked to them for a while. The more they learned about the victims, the more Dean found himself wanting to keep this from happening again. Every last one of them had seemed like genuinely good people.

"Yeah. Guess we'll just have to start fresh tomorrow." MJ grumbled. She still felt like something was off about this case. It was driving her nuts.

* * *

They decided to head over to a motel to regroup. MJ wound up across the hall from the Winchesters. She showered and got into sweats before settling in to do some research on her laptop. She was halfway into reading an article when searing pain snaked across her left leg, settling into a steady ache. She shoved the computer off her lap and snatched up a salt gun, looking wildly around the room. There was nothing there. She heard a muffled thud from across the hall and whipped around. She raced to the door opposite hers and tried the handle. It wasn't locked. She burst into the room to find Sam on the floor with a figure standing over him. She brought the barrel of the gun up and pulled the trigger, dispersing the ghost. As soon as it was gone her leg stopped hurting. Sam rolled onto his side, coughing and gasping.

Dean heard the gunshot ring through the hallway. He dropped the ice bucket and headed towards it at a run. He rounded the corner and glimpsed the door to his and Sam's room open. He stormed in and saw MJ crouched next to Sam, who was laying on the floor gasping and clutching his chest.

"What the **hell**?" He yelled, making it over to them in two long strides.

"It was a ghost."MJ said calmly and looked up at him. "Will you put your gun away?" She stood very slowly, eyes on Dean's face rather than the weapon pointed at her chest.

Dean hadn't even realized he'd drawn it, it was just a reflex at this point. He stuffed it in the back of his pants and looked at Sam.

"You ok?" He asked, voice tinged with worry.

"I'll be fine" Sam groaned. "That hurt like hell though." He rolled to his knees and clambered up to sit on the bed. Then he squinted at MJ, confused. "How'd you know I was in trouble?"

"I didn't know it was you. Just that there was either a ghost or demon close by." MJ shrugged and swung her shotgun up onto her shoulder. "I got a broken leg on a ghost hunt a few years back. It aches when either of those are around."

"So you're a walking talking proximity alarm for spooks." Dean remarked. "That's damn useful." He bobbed his head to the side as he considered it.

"Thanks." MJ replied flatly. She didn't usually advertise her freaky quirk, but since she was already going to be spilling her guts about hell to these men she figured it didn't matter. "It's not always reliable though. If it's too cold out I won't even notice the extra ache. Some surgeon decided it'd be a brilliant idea to shove a metal rod in my tibia." MJ shuddered a bit at the memory of waking up in the hospital and being told she'd had surgery.

"Damn." Sam half laughed. "Must've been a serious break." He was still rubbing his chest and shivered slightly.

"Yeah." MJ said with an air of false boredom. "You should drink something warm, hearts aren't supposed to get that cold." She tried to redirect the conversation back to Sam. It worked.

"Speaking of. How the _hell_ did a ghost get in here? Or all around town for that matter?" Dean asked a little angrily. MJ shook her head, baffled.

"And why did it go after me?" Sam inquired quietly.

"That's easy." MJ snorted. "You're a sensitive, bleeding heart type. Just like the other vics. It didn't make sense when we were looking for a cursed object, but ghosts can get pretty specific with victim types." Dean snickered at the observation, bumping Sam a little. MJ shifted her weight, wishing she could go sit down in her own room. It felt awkward standing around in someone else's space.

"Bleeding heart..." Sam said to no one in particular, thinking. "I think I read something about some wealthy town founder having some pretty rigid ideals for citizens. Hang on." Sam got up and rummaged in a bag, pulling out his laptop. He did a quick search and sat back, triumphant. "Yeah. This guy Robert Adler. He owned like half the property here and ended up killing his own son for being 'too soft' as he put it." Sam looked a bit like the cat that ate the canary.

"Ok, that still doesn't explain how he's traveling all over the place." Dean popped Sam's bubble with almost no effort. Sam looked over at Dean with irritation, giving him a ' _you couldn't just let me have that?_ ' look.

"Adler... Why does that name sound familiar?" MJ knew she'd seen it somewhere, she just wasn't sure where. Exhaustion was eating away at her focus. Sam looked back to the screen, reading further.

"I might have a theory." Sam said tentatively, his eyebrows creeping towards his hairline. "Apparently Adler was the first person in the city to have a telephone installed in his home. He pretty much singlehandedly got the whole area wired. They have his original on display over at the rec center." Sam hesitated, not particularly sure of his idea. Before he could continue, MJ connected the dots.

"Oh my god. He's using phone lines?" MJ interrupted, her eyes flicking over to the landline on the nightstand. "That's not creepy or anything." She remembered reading a plaque at the rec center earlier, crediting Adler with making the town a successful business center for the region. His ghost must still feel possessive.

"Does that say where he's buried?" Dean asked, going into hunting mode. Ghosts were simple enough to get rid of.

"Yeah, but Dean I'm not sure that'll be enough." Sam answered. "I think to be safe we should torch that phone. Even then, we can't be sure he's not tethered to every landline around here."

"Not a problem." MJ said confidently. "Just add a cleansing spell to the fire." The words just kind of slipped out. She was getting **way** too comfortable with the Winchesters. They both looked at her, bewildered. "Oh come on. Like you've never used a cleansing ritual before." MJ felt a little panicked, this is why she didn't hang out with other hunters. Just mention using a little witchcraft and they get all defensive. Or murderous.

"No, I mean we have, but that's a really good idea." Dean said in a rush. He had picked up on a flicker of fear in MJ's demeanor at their surprise. She'd started to take half a step back. He got the feeling that she'd had a bad experience or two in the past. He'd met more than one hunter over the years that had a strict no magic policy. They usually wound up dead, but still, it happened. The expression of relief that flitted across MJ's face at his words was heartbreaking.

"Well then, I've got a good heavy duty one that should do the trick." MJ cleared her throat. She pushed away her desire to go curl up in bed for a few hours. "I'll go get some stuff and meet you guys outside. Let's not give the bastard a chance to go after Sam again."

"Yeah, that would be good." Sam huffed.

* * *

MJ broke into the rec center to get the antique phone. It wasn't heavy, and she was able to easily stuff it into a backpack. Then she met up with the brothers at Adler's grave. They were just finishing digging up the coffin.

"I've got it." MJ announced her arrival while dropping the backpack next to the pile of earth. "And I've got everything for the cleansing."

Dean grunted and swung up out of the deep hole. He was filthy and panting slightly. MJ watched as he drained the last water from a bottle. She felt a pang of sympathy for him. She'd only met Dean a couple of days ago, but he certainly didn't seem like he deserved to go to hell.

"What?" He asked self consciously. MJ's eyes were locked on him but he couldn't read her expression.

"Nothing." She said, turning to the backpack and pulling out the phone and some ingredients for the cleansing. Sam was prying the lid off of the coffin. There was a loud _crack!_ followed by him heaving himself up to the same level as MJ and his brother. He wheezed a bit. MJ swiped a water bottle and whistled sharply to get Sam's attention before tossing it to him. He caught it and downed it in one go.

"Thanks." He chuckled. "So is this everything we'll need?" He stepped lightly over to where MJ was setting up various glass jars full of herbs.

"Yeah, and there's an incantation." MJ held up a scrap of yellowed parchment. "Since he tried to kill you, do you want to do the honors?" She smirked as she spoke. Sam laughed lightly and took the paper. MJ tossed the old phone in with the bones.

Dean got the fire going and Sam read the incantation while MJ added ingredients to the flames. They turned from orange to blue-green as the spell did its job. They were quiet for some time, just watching the bones burn. As the last embers died MJ picked up a shovel and started dumping dirt back in. Dean grabbed the other one.

"I've got this, you can sit." MJ said, glancing at the man.

"It'll get done faster this way." Dean mumbled. The invitation was enticing, he could feel fatigue setting in. But he would feel weird doing nothing. "So... how are we going to keep me from going to hell in a couple months?" MJ paused, shovel mid-air. It took her a moment to respond.

"The best bet is to find out which demon holds your contract and kill them." She looked away then, continuing to move the dirt back.

"How do we find that out?" Dean asked, not sure he wanted the answer.

"Catch a crossroads demon and... make them talk." MJ kept her eyes on her task. Dean didn't respond, so she eventually looked up. He was looking at her, leaning on his shovel. Her eyes found his and they locked for a long minute. She read in them Dean's unwillingness to torture a demon's vessel along with the hell spawn. She saw pain that felt all too familiar. MJ dropped her gaze then, feeling oddly exposed. "I can take care of it." She said in a small voice. It wasn't like she'd be tarnishing her soul any more than it already was.

"No." Dean's voice was firm. He felt off. When he'd looked into MJ's eyes he'd seen something vulnerable in them, and it made him want to stand between her and danger. He'd been unable to look away, so when she dropped her eyes it had been a relief. "There has to be another way."

"And if there's not?" MJ tried to keep her voice neutral. She was trying to be gentle about it, but she didn't see any other way.

"Then... I don't know." Dean was thrown by how cold MJ had suddenly become. Over the past few days he'd seen any number of emotions from her, always in full force. But now she was quiet, deliberate in every movement. It seemed unnatural.

"Well you'd better figure that out quick Winchester." MJ slapped the flat of the shovel down on the dirt, compacting it. "Unless you want to die under the fangs of a hellhound." Her voice had become quite sharp. "It's a bad way to go."

Dean found himself speechless, he didn't want to believe that torturing a demon was the only way to get answers, but he also really didn't want to die. He watched MJ's face twist, presumably at the memory of her own death. She looked like she was going to be sick for a brief moment, but then she straightened up, closing her eyes. Sam had watched the exchange silently, feeling like an intruder.

"I don't know about you two, but I need some sleep." MJ's usual manner of sarcasm was back. She crouched to repack the spell ingredients before hefting the bag over her shoulder. She walked off in the direction of her car.


	3. Chapter 3

MJ woke slowly. She knew it was going to be one of _those_ days. Her joints were stiff and she could barely feel her fingertips. She shivered and rolled to the edge of the bed, groaning. She dragged herself into a sitting position and leaned so she could reach her duffel on the floor. She clumsily undid the zipper and pushed her arms through the sleeves of a much too large sweatshirt. She knew it wouldn't really help, but there was something comforting about the weight of the fabric. She stumbled into her boots and to the door of the motel room, keen on getting to the vending machine for breakfast. MJ wasn't watching where she was going, so when she turned back from locking the door she bumped right into Dean. He wore a t-shirt and jeans, and MJ nearly spilled the coffee he was holding.

"Watch it!" Dean exclaimed, lurching back.

"Sorry." MJ mumbled, sidestepping into the wall.

"How are you wearing a sweatshirt right now? It's like 80 degrees in here!" Dean demanded.

"I'm cold." MJ shot back. It was too early for this.

"You're nuts." Dean scoffed. He shook his head and took a sip of coffee.

"Excuse me if being dead for a year has some side effects!" MJ muttered angrily. She was having a hard time thinking clearly, she was so, so cold. And the older Winchester's attitude rubbed her the wrong way.

Dean could barely stop himself from flinching away from the words. _A year?_ She hadn't just died and come back right off. She'd been very, very dead. And she'd been to hell. Dean stared at her, starting to really think about the implications.

"Oh don't!" MJ snapped. "I don't need your pity." She could see it all over Dean's face.

"What _happened_ to you?" Dean completely ignored what MJ had said. He gave her a searching look, there were about a million questions racing through his mind.

"Fine. I'll tell you, just let me get a granola bar or something." MJ sighed, defeated.

* * *

"I was an extremely stupid kid ok?" MJ paced back and forth in Sam and Dean's motel room. "I got in way over my head messing with crap I didn't have _any_ business messing with. I got mixed up in a coven, thought being a witch could solve my problems."

"Coven? As in witches?" Dean asked. There was an accusatory undercurrent, a sharpness to the way he asked.

MJ stared at the floor. At least neither of them had left yet. "Yeah. And before you get all judgy, they weren't borrowing power from demons. There's more than one kind of witchcraft out there." MJ's voice was tense. She didn't want to talk about this, so she kept details to a minimum. She used her right hand to massage the left nervously as she spoke. "I found out some stuff about the coven's leader I wasn't supposed to. She was killing people. Tried to kill me. So, I ran. Took evidence to the grand coven, and they took her into custody. Before she was executed though, she made a deal to have me killed and dragged to the pit." MJ couldn't look at either of them, so she kept her eyes on the floor as she paced. She took a shaky breath and forced the rest of the story out. "When my old mentor found out I was in hell he felt guilty or something and traded a crossroads demon half a dozen spell books to get me back. After he used some spellwork to stitch my mind back together he figured he didn't owe me anything else and told me to get lost." Sam and Dean sat speechless for a few minutes.

"So, your mentor just... threw you out?" Sam asked, a little appalled.

"Your coven is your family. I destroyed mine." MJ replied, shrugging. "I'm shocked he bothered to bring me back at all. Even if he had no idea what was going on behind closed doors I'm still the one who burned it all to the ground." She shook her head and laughed humorlessly.

"That's a load of crap." Dean objected. "Family cares about you no matter what. They don't kill you and toss you out on your ass."

MJ stopped pacing and looked up at him, a mixture of surprise and grief on her face. "Well it doesn't matter anymore. I've been a hunter for the past six years, not a witch." MJ looked away and sighed. "So, do you want me to take down a demon or not? We need to find out who holds your contract Dean. Otherwise... I don't know how to help you." Her brows knit together as she said the words.

"Do it." Sam looked up from his feet. Dean turned to argue and Sam held up a hand. "I'm not going to sit by and let you die Dean. MJ are you sure you can get a demon to talk?"

"No, but I can try." MJ exchanged a look with Sam. He nodded and she left the room.

"Damn it Sam!" Dean yelled, slamming his fist on the table and standing. "I should march right over there and tell her to forget it!" He pointed angrily at the door. Sam rose to his feet too.

"She offered! And we don't have time to keep arguing about this!" Sam was getting close to shouting at his big brother. "We need to know everything we can about your contract and I don't see you coming up with any viable alternatives!" He moved to stand between Dean and the door. Dean's shoulders slumped.

"So, we torture innocent people to get answers from demons now?" He sat on his bed with a bump.

"If the situation were reversed you'd do it in a heartbeat." Sam said quietly. "And we're not doing it." Sam made a gesture towards the door, "She is."

* * *

MJ had found the perfect spot. An old one room building, more of a shed really. It was out of the way, right next to a crossroads. She carefully painted the fifth pentacle of Mars on the floorboards, making sure the chair legs wouldn't interrupt the scorpion in the center. She stood back to take it all in. It had taken some finessing to get the chair bolted down properly, but eventually she'd made it work. She checked the pages of a leather-bound book for the hundredth time, chewing her lip. It was a risk, but she was mostly sure that the adjustments she'd made to the exorcism would make it run smoother. This was far from her first demon, she had made it a bit of a habit to go after the back eyed monsters.

MJ hoped that the crossroads demon wouldn't show up in anyone too much bigger than her. It was going to be difficult to get the spell to incapacitate it to last long, and if its vessel was too big for her to carry, it'd be game over.

It was starting to get late in the day so she decided to get one more night's rest before actually summoning the thing. She drove the forty odd minutes back to the motel, realizing she should check out first thing before going back to deal with the demon. There was no point in coming back here, she had both of the Winchester's cell numbers. MJ kicked the door to her room shut behind her and flopped down face first on the bed. Moments later there was a knock on the door. She groaned and got up to answer.

"You done already?" Dean asked the second she opened the door.

"No. I finished setting up. I'm going to get some sleep before I go summoning supercharged hellspawn." MJ answered crankily. She was still stiff and cold and she'd started to get a headache a few hours ago.

"Oh." Dean responded lamely. He shifted uncomfortably. "Listen... About you torturing-"

"I'm not gonna hurt the victim if I can help it." MJ cut him off. "There are plenty of things you can do to a demon that leave the vessel relatively unscathed." Her expression softened and, it made Dean feel a little like butterflies were fluttering around in his stomach. "Your conscience is clear."

Damn. Was she always that pretty? A little tired looking sure, but something about the frayed braid and dusting of freckles across her cheeks was pleasing. Even the three-day old smudged eyeliner mixed nicely with her features, bringing out flecks of green and blue in her grey eyes. A corner of her mouth was turned up in a gentle smile.

"Yeah..." Dean responded just above a whisper. "I don't know about that, but thank you."

"You're... Welcome?" One of MJ's eyebrows shot up. His voice was velvety soft, and she hadn't expected a thank you of all things. She blinked a few times to try and dissipate the sleepy fog keeping her from shutting her emotions out. She'd gotten pretty good at compartmentalizing over the years but Dean was testing that. MJ knew if she wasn't careful she'd cross the line from polite compassion to something stronger. And that terrified her.

"Well I'll let you get some rest." Dean mumbled, backing up. He couldn't quite read MJ's expression as she nodded and shut the door, but he thought he detected a little anxiety beyond the surprise. He turned back to his own hotel room.

"So?" Sam asked as Dean came through the door. He was fighting an amused expression, Dean's sheepish demeanor spelled out that his assumptions at the door across the hall banging shut had been wrong.

"She was just setting up." Dean grumbled. He crossed to his bed and sat heavily. "MJ says she'll be actually getting to it tomorrow." His voice had lost all of the venom from earlier. He absolutely believed that MJ wouldn't just start tearing into an innocent after their little exchange. Hadn't she gone out of her way to make sure that guy from the vamp nest had gotten home safe?

"I hate to say I told you so Dean." Sam said, only a little smug.

"You love to say I told you so." Dean groaned back. He laid down then, thinking. MJ had been planning on being a witch once upon a time. That hardly seemed to fit the girl he was starting to know. She was brash and loud, and so far, as he'd seen, a damn good hunter. Practical. Though he supposed six years was plenty of time to learn a thing or two. Six years... He sat bolt upright. "Sam, how old is MJ?" He figured Sam would know since he and MJ had been getting along pretty well, exchanging jokes and case notes.

"Um... My age? I think? Why?" Sam was wary at his brother's sudden change in demeanor. Dean sucked in a sharp breath, doing some quick mental math. "What Dean?" Sam asked, starting to really get nervous.

"Sam... if MJ's your age, and she's been a hunter for six years, and she was dead for a year before that... That means she was just a kid. Some coven was _using_ her and she was just a kid." Dean looked over in the direction of MJ's room, horrified. "Sammy, she _died_ and she was just 17." Sam thought for a moment before responding.

"Yeah. Well, we didn't exactly have picture perfect childhoods either. We saw some pretty messed up crap." Sam thought it was sad, but didn't see much of a difference from the way he'd grown up. He didn't really want to think too hard about something he couldn't change. "She seems to have turned out alright. And she's not dead anymore." Dean shot his brother a look, shaking his head and rubbing his face. He really didn't have the energy to argue.

* * *

MJ was still in her jeans when she woke up. She rolled to look at the digital clock on the motel dresser. 4:30am. She heaved a sigh. Typical. She sat up and stretched, pleased to find that the awful chill from yesterday was gone. She felt warm and alive. She yawned hugely and started packing all of her stuff up. A few minutes later her duffel was full and all that was left was to leave the key at the front desk. MJ trudged through the pre-morning mist to her car, she hoped it would stay gloomy out. It seemed wrong to be torturing a demon on a nice, sunny day.

Dawn was just breaking when MJ covered the little box with dirt. She stood and looked around expectantly. The insubstantial wisps of cloud on the horizon wouldn't last. She sighed and half hoped the demon wouldn't show. But then her leg started throbbing. It was show time. She spotted the crossroads demon before it could speak. It was wearing a slightly scrawny man half a head taller than MJ's 5'5". It smiled and opened its mouth. Before It could get its greeting out though MJ threw a spell jar at the demon's feet, shattering it and knocking the demon flat on its back, stunned. MJ worked quickly then, dragging it up onto her shoulder by the wrists and staggering into the shed. She dumped the man into the chair and stood there for a moment, wheezing from the effort. She took two faltering steps back and grabbed a handful of ropes she'd left soaking in holy water overnight. By the time the demon was coming to enough to notice the burning sensation, she'd tied it up.

"I've got some questions for you." MJ panted. Looking the demon in the eye.

* * *

Sam and Dean had both slept in, it was after 10:00 when Dean finally lifted his head from the pillow. He wandered to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. He stepped back into yesterday's jeans before chucking a pillow at Sam.

"Get up. Day's wasting." Dean told his little brother. Sam grumbled and sat up, hair a total mess.

"What time is it?" Sam yawned, looking at the clock. "Ugh. Why didn't you let me keep sleeping?" Sam whined, stumbling towards the bathroom himself.

Dean smirked and pulled on a button up flannel over the t shirt he'd worn to bed. He left it open and grabbed his keys. Today was much cooler out than yesterday had been and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. He was about to sit in the driver's seat of the impala when he noticed the absence of a particular big boxy car. His eyes swept the parking lot one more time before he was sure. MJ wasn't there. He sighed, realizing what she must be doing right about now. Dean got into the impala and went to go get a late breakfast for him and Sam.

* * *

MJ was wiping salt from her hands and trying to block out the garbled screams behind her when she felt her cell vibrate in her back pocket. She pulled it out to find a text from Sam.

 _"How's it going?"_

She sighed and shook her head slightly before typing out a response. It was almost compulsive how she always responded immediately. And letting more than two rings go by when someone called was just about unbearable.

 _"Can't talk. Little busy."_

She stuck the cell back into her pocket and turned to the demon. It had started to quiet as it spat salt on the floor. Its skin steamed slightly. MJ had set up a saline drip earlier. Partially to keep the human hydrated, and partially to keep the demon in constant pain. She picked up a syringe and filled it with holy water.

"Do you really want to keep playing dumb?" She questioned in a monotone. MJ was trying her hardest to keep herself from giving the demon any ammunition by staying objective.

"I told you! I don't know anything!" The demon choked out.

"Too bad." MJ sighed. Then she emptied the syringe into the IV. Moments later the demon was screaming and writhing against the restraints. Its skin appeared to boil from underneath and steam rose more heavily.

* * *

"She's fine. I told you." Sam held up his phone in Dean's general direction. Dean grumbled.

It was well into the evening and MJ hadn't so much as shot a text the Winchester's way. He'd started to worry a bit, which is when Sam had sent his message to keep Dean from going out looking for her. Demons were tricky, dangerous things, and until Sam had gotten a response part of Dean had started to think something had gone wrong. He didn't like the idea of their new acquaintance being alone with one.

"Well then what's taking so long?" Dean growled. He shifted anxiously in his chair. He was trying to keep himself from getting too hopeful. There was no guarantee that MJ could even get a demon to talk, let alone find out anything useful.

"You did kind of limit what MJ could do to get answers didn't you? Telling her that she can't hurt the victim." Sam teased. It was a relief to know that something was being done to help his brother. And he couldn't pass up the opportunity to poke fun. He was scrolling through newspapers online, looking for cases.

"Hey! She was the one who brought that up, not me." Dean shot back defensively. He didn't notice the teasing tone until after he'd said it. His eyes narrowed and he gave the best response he could think of at that moment. "Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam's response was automatic, he didn't even glance up from his laptop.

* * *

MJ had one knee on the chair between the demon's legs. She gripped the back of its hair firmly, forcing it to look up at the gallon jug of holy water she was pouring steadily onto it. When it was empty she stepped back, as soaked as it was. MJ squeezed some of the water out of the front of her shirt. The heat of the day was starting to ebb away, so wet clothes wouldn't be comfortable for long. The demon growled and thrashed, clearly not taking the torture any better than it had earlier.

"So, are you ready to tell me who holds Dean Winchester's contract?" MJ sounded almost bored. And to be honest, she thought she might actually be soon. She was tired, wet, and seemingly no closer to answers despite the hours working the demon over. She glanced at her watch. 9:45pm. That meant she'd been at this for over 15 hours solid.

"I can't tell you." The demon hissed. MJ perked up. It knew something. The demon's expression wavered a bit, realizing it had given something away. It had been insisting that it knew nothing all day, but now... Now it was simply a matter of the right leverage.

"Well then maybe you can tell me what this is." A little emotion leaked into her voice as MJ picked up the green book she'd been studying yesterday. The demon said nothing, but its eyes were locked onto the item in her hand. She waited for a response, but when none came she supplied the answer herself. "That's ok. I already know what it is. It's a collection of exorcisms." MJ continued conversationally, dropping the monotone completely. She flipped to a section fairly early on in the book before holding it up lazily. letting the demon see the page. "Now this one, it's a hunter's best friend. Short and dirty. Gets the job done real quick."

"You think I'm afraid of a little Latin, girl?" The demon sneered. The holy water was all but gone from its skin at that point.

"Oh, I didn't expect you to blink at this one."MJ scoffed. "It barely sends your kind to the lobby. It would take you what? A couple years to climb back out at the most?" Her voice had taken on an edge, which the demon picked up on. It looked her up and down warily. MJ smirked at the expression on the demon's face. She was starting to get to it. She calmly flipped further through the yellow edged pages.

"This one is fun. It'd send you right to the fourth circle of hell." MJ offered cheerfully. The demon simply glared. "No? Alright I'll keep looking." Her voice was dripping with mock disappointment. She turned a few dozen more pages. "Oh, here it is. My personal favorite." She smiled at the demon, and then looked back to the book. "I mean, it takes like five hours to do properly, but all the best things take time, right?" She waved carelessly with the hand not holding the book as she spoke. MJ watched the demon go very still out of the corner of her eye. Gotcha.

Three paragraphs in the demon started to get restless. It still refused to talk though. It was almost like it didn't want to believe MJ was capable of sending it to the ninth circle of hell. It was a very old, very delicate exorcism that could easily backfire if you didn't know what you were doing. What the demon _didn't_ know was that she'd done it before. She knew where the kinks were in the ritual. She'd even made some annotations in the margins of her book, fixing a line here or there, adding a splash of holy water or oil to punctuate certain passages. This crossroad demon didn't have a clue who it was dealing with. MJ had yet to meet another hunter with the kind of hatred she had for demons. Plenty had burning rage for them, but MJ's loathing was cold and calculated. She knew where she was sending this one was way beyond overkill for a crossroads demon, but she didn't care. She hoped it'd get ripped apart.

It was two hours into the exorcism that the demon took a turn. It twitched and thrashed with each word. MJ held a cloth soaked in holy oil above the demon's head in her fist and each drop that rolled off onto its forehead sizzled.

"ALL RIGHT!" The demon screamed. MJ paused, and the demon took a breath before saying anything else. "All right. I can't tell you who holds the Winchester kid's contract because I don't know anymore." MJ gave the demon a bored look before turning back to the page she'd been reading from.

"NO, NO PLEASE! It's been chaos! Demons trading contracts for power, no one even knows who's in charge anymore! I swear, I'll tell you everything, just don't send me there!" The words came out all at once, and there was a satisfying level of fear in them.

"So, who had his contract last?" MJ asked harshly.

"The king of the crossroads. He sold it. Whoever has it now must be really powerful." The demon whimpered out. "Will you let me go now?"

"You're kidding right? That information isn't worth your freedom!" MJ laughed. "Start listing names and places. I want to know about **every** demon that's topside. Then we'll see about letting you go."

"I can't!" The demon sounded desperate, pleading.

"Then I can't stop." MJ said flatly before continuing to read out the exorcism. It didn't take much more to break the demon, every few minutes it would give a new name and location just to get a reprieve from the torture. MJ wrote it all in a notebook. Her hand faltered at the last name the demon gave. It saw.

"I knew you looked familiar." The demon managed to hiss quietly. It was slumped in the chair, shaking. "Somebody's looking for you." The hiss turned to a chuckle as the demon taunted.

MJ looked at the demon, her lip curled in disgust. Then she started to read the end of the exorcism. It howled and screamed and arched its back. MJ was yelling at the top of her lungs by the time the demon burst from its vessel and descended to hell. She was never going to let it go, it must have realized that on some level. And now it would never make another deal. Even if it survived that deep in hell, it'd never find its way out again. She stumbled outside and sat heavily on the rickety wooden steps of the shed. She leaned back, exhausted. She watched the stars for a long time, long enough that some pre-dawn light started to leak into the horizon.

MJ heard a groan from inside the shed. She allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction before standing and checking on the now demon free man. He wasn't really conscious yet, which was just as well. She pulled out the knife she always kept sheathed at her ankle and cut the restraints. The man groaned again and started to slide forward.

"Oh boy, easy there." MJ said quietly, pushing his shoulders back. "I need you to wake up a bit, let's get you some help." She watched the man's face twitch as she spoke, his eyes fluttered. "Come on." MJ encouraged.

With much coaxing MJ managed to get him half awake. The man needed her to support most of his weight to stagger out to her car. She reclined the passenger seat and helped the man into it before buckling him in and shutting the door. She decided it would be better to get him to a hospital now and come back to clean up after herself later.

The hospital staff were nice enough once MJ flashed one of her forged badges. They stopped asking too many questions and just took care of the guy. She took the first opportunity she saw to slip out of the hospital. He would be fine physically, and hopefully he'd never have any awareness of the time he'd spent possessed.


	4. Update Kind of

So I've had a hell of a year and ran out of steam for this fic. I'm sorry guys. I have some story fragments that I could post if y'all would like but I'm not sure I'll ever actually fill in the gaps and finish the story. One of the things that happened was that I wasn't really happy with the OC so I did a MAJOR overhaul on the character and she ended up not really fitting anymore. Upside is that she was _perfect_ for a crossover idea I'd been toying with for a very long time. Issue here being that it's a super out of left field universe crossover that doesn't actually include **any** official supernatural characters. Instead it's just using the rules of the supernatural universe and applying them as somewhat of a B plot for another show's universe. It's a more fulfilling creative exercise than a straightforward supernatural fanfiction and if I'm being really honest it's also a less depressing endeavor than where this was going. Again, let me know if you want to see story fragments. Just keep in mind they might also show up in a crossover fic in some form or another if I feel like the quality is up to scratch on that one. Thank you for reading what I did post though, I do appreciate it. Also if anybody wants to give me feedback on what parts hey liked about this fic or things they didn't like I'd super appreciate it. I really do want to get better at this writing thing and feedback is HUGE on that front.

Thanks y'all,

Lumos Pumpkin


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